


Tumblr: Valentine's Day Challenge

by wibblywobblymess



Category: Blue Bloods (TV), CSI: Miami, CSI: NY, Criminal Minds (US TV), Leverage, NCIS, NCIS: New Orleans, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 14 stories in 14 days, F/M, Fluffy, Gen, Valentine's Day Challenge, day 11 is unrequited love, the others are cute and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-15 11:11:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13612131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblywobblymess/pseuds/wibblywobblymess
Summary: Based onthisValentine's Day Challenge list.All stories were originally posted onmy Tumblr.Chapters Are Not Connected, and are from Various Shows, and this will be marked as complete even as I upload all of them. Final Chapter will be uploaded on Valentine's Day.





	1. Day One: First Date (Criminal Minds)

You were nervous. Nervous wasn’t even the right word, the way your breath trembled and your hands shook, despite being gloved and buried in your pockets as you rushed through the streets. It had been a long time since you’d been on a first date, but you had lucked out - would you call it luck? - and tonight? Tonight was your first date with someone you had been wanting to go out with since you met him. How could you not want to go out with Luke?

You arrived at the restaurant, sniffling slightly as you tugged your gloves off, and poked your head in the door. It was a nice place, not overly fancy but still very nice, as you stepped in, brushing the snow off your jacket, and looked around.

“Y/N!” You jumped, turning, and blushed - something that was thankfully covered by the fact that the cold had already reddened your face - smiling as Luke nodded to the hostess as he came around to see you. “I got our table, I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” you promised, sniffling a bit as you shrugged off your jacket, and quietly thanked the hostess as she took it to hang it up. You hesitated, glancing up at Luke, but all your nerves were gone when you met his eye. He was looking at you like you’d hung the moon, smile soft and sweet on his lips. After a second, he even reached up, lightly brushing the snow off your hair even as it melted, before he dropped his hand, fingers itching to take yours. And you complied, lacing your fingers with his, and shuffling closer to him, as he smiled again, and led you to the table.

You were nervous.

But how could you stay nervous, with the way Luke looked at you?


	2. Day Two: Nose Kisses (Teen Wolf)

'

It wasn’t common, the snow falling in Beacon Hills. At least, not without magical interference. But for the first time, in a very long time, magic wasn’t the cause. It just…happened, the snow falling down. So the pack - minus those wolves, with their own crazy body heat - were buttoned up in winter coats, gloves, hats. You lingered on the edge of the pack with Stiles, hands tucked under your arms, as you sniffled, and sighed, ignoring his chuckling.

“You know, when you told me the pack liked to hang out, you probably should have mentioned it would be watching these perfect specimens having a Hot Off while we freeze our noses off,” you grumbled, as Stiles snickered, shuffling a little closer to you.

“If I knew it was gonna snow, I would’ve have suggested us mere mortals go for cocoa or coffee or something, not linger around to watch, because as hot as they are, it doesn’t help warm me any. Your nose is very red.”

“I still have a nose?” you countered, huffing, as he snickered. Reaching up, Stiles fixed his red hood, and turned, tugging at your arm until you turned to face him. “Hmph.”

“C’mere.” He reached out with his big, bulky glove, rubbing his fingers across your nose as you laughed softly, and rolled your eyes.

“Well, thank you, Stiles, that makes all of this worthwhile.” He snickered at you, but when he dropped his hand, he ducked in, pressing a few quick kisses to the tip of your red nose.

“How about now?” he asked, grinning, as you blinked at him in surprise. When you realized you hadn’t answered, you ducked your head, reaching out to bump your hand against his padded side. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled, glancing at the pack. “Five more minutes, then we’re going for cocoa.”

“Deal.”


	3. Day Three: Movie Night (NCIS)

MTAC was not intended to be used this way, but not even Vance was arguing. Everyone was dotted around the seats as the room darkened, and the screen flickered to life. Abby tapped at the keyboard as the door buzzed, and Nick slipped in, apologizing quietly as he handed off the popcorn he’d brought in. Most of the seats were open, so you were surprised when he hopped up the steps and slipped by you to take the seat to your left. It wasn’t a secret, how you felt about Nick, but sometimes it was hard to read him - not that he kept everything close to the vest, but that he flirted with everyone. Hell, you had watched him flirt with the meter maid the day before!

Nick reached out, holding a bag of popcorn to you, making you smile softly as the music started around the room.

“Thank you,” you said softly, shifting to cross your legs in his direction, so you could rest the popcorn on your thigh, so he could reach, too. You looked up at the screen as the movie started, but after a few seconds, you turned your head, realizing Nick was looking at you. “…Nick?”

“I was thinkin’,” he said, leaning towards you so he didn’t interrupt the movie for anyone else. Brow furrowed, you shifted, too, arm on the arm rest as you leaned in. “I like movie night, but, uh…I like it better without company. Can I…invite you out tomorrow night?” Your face flushed, brow furrowing in surprise.

“…you mean, like…”

“A date, yeah. Is that a yes?” he asked quietly, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, as you laughed, soft, blushing, and nodded.

“It is,” you answered softly, head turning at the hissed shhhh from in front of them. Nick snickered, but even as the two of you turned your focus back to the movie, you didn’t miss when his hand found yours on the armrest for the rest of the night.


	4. Day Four: Secret Admirer (CSI Miami)

Flashing a smile at Ryan, you grabbed your jacket off the rack, and pulled it over your shoulders.

“You look happy,” he chuckled, fixing his collar as he grabbed a pair of gloves out of the box. You laughed, soft, and shrugged.

“I’ve had a good week…” you admitted, pulling your hair up off your neck as you buttoned your jacket. Ryan quirked a brow as he looked at you, waiting for you to continue, which made you blush a bit. “I…apparently…have a secret admirer.”

“…are you serious? Isn’t that dangerous?” he prodded, concerned, but you shook your head, moving around to your computer.

“I mean, I don’t feel threatened. Whoever it is, they’re really sweet. It’s not pushy, it’s not aggressive. I just wish I knew who it was…” you told him, trailing off at the sight of a flower and an envelope on your keyboard. The color on your cheeks flared up, and you fought your grin, ducking your head as you grabbed the envelope. The handwriting was really well scripted, and looked nothing like any handwriting you’d seen before, not that you didn’t try.

“…is that another one?” he asked, coming around the desk and leaning against it beside you to see as you opened the envelope, and blushed. The card was simple, but really sweet, with a sweet message inside that went well with the other things you’d gotten from your Secret Admirer. “Wow…that’s really sweet.”

“It really is,” you answered quietly, taking the envelope and card, and the flower. “I’m gonna…go put these in my locker.” You wished you knew who was leaving these for you, because even if it was someone you only ever saw as a friend, you wanted to tell them, to their face, how much it meant to you to be admired. But there was no trace on anything - no prints, no DNA, nothing, and you had tried it several times.

Ryan nodded, pushing back as you headed out, rose cradled gently in your left hand, right hand holding the card against your chest. As soon as the door swung shut, he smiled, soft, and dug into the pocket of his jacket, placing a piece of candy where he’d left the card and flower when he first walked in, and turned, moving back to his computer. You were so happy to get those, Ryan knew he’d have to tell you he was the admirer at some point.

Not yet.

But soon.


	5. Day Five: Babysitting Together (Blue Bloods)

“Did you remember to order the pizza?” you called, flipping the page in the book in your lap and jotting down a note before looking up as Jamie entered the room.

“Yeah, course I did. Should be here…” Before he could look at his watch, the doorbell rang, making you both chuckle, a sound that burst into a louder laugh at the cheer from upstairs as Jack and Sean barreled down the stairs. “Now, I’m guessing.”

“Good deduction, Harvard,” you teased, closing your books, and stuffing things back in your bag. It seemed cliche, the college student babysitting with her boyfriend, but at least neither of you were in high school. Yeah, you were in college, but only for a few refresher classes, and Jamie wasn’t in school anymore, Jamie was a cop.

But after dinner, after the boys laid down, and after Danny and Linda checked in to be sure nothing hit the fan, Jamie came back to the table, taking all your things, before taking your hand, pulling you from the chair as you laughed.

“Jamie, what are you doing?”

“Look, the kids are asleep, we are literally here for the night…so come on. Let’s watch a movie,” he insisted, not that he had to argue with you, you were so tired of doing homework. And once you two settled in on the couch, Jamie’s arm around you, and you tucked in against his side, you had forgotten all about the homework.

And if you two forgot all about the movie after he leaned down to kiss you, his fingers tangled in your hair, well, everyone was asleep, so it wasn’t like anyone was getting hurt .


	6. Day Six: Partner's Birthday (CSI NY)

Flack didn’t make a big deal out of his birthday, not really. The team always wished him a happy birthday, and he either got a call from his family or a text. With the difference in your schedules, typically, you didn’t get to see him but for a few minutes before you went to bed at night, so you always called him first thing in the morning. It was just how things were.

But he was surprised when you didn’t call him that morning. He was even more surprised when, when he finally did get through to you, and you didn’t mention it. You weren’t one to forget a birthday. But…he didn’t make a big deal out of it, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he got his coffee, and went to work, figuring he’d let it go.

The sound of his laughter made you grin, and bounce on the balls of your feet, when he got to the precinct, only to see you standing at his desk, a cake next to his keyboard, and a small bag in your hand.

“Happy birthday!” you laughed, throwing up your hand as he came up to you, flinging a small handful of confetti at him as he squawked, and laughed. His arms looped around your waist, his grin making it hard to nail the kiss, but neither of you cared, as you looped your free hand around his shoulders to pull him down. “Happy birthday,” you repeated, as he pulled back, cupping your face.

“Thank you, sweetheart. What’s this?” he asked, poking the bag, as you grinned, and glanced around, handing it to him.

“It’s your gift, but you can’t open the bag until tonight…you can open this, though,” you told him, handing him a card. Flack moved an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into his side as he opened the card. You watched him, intently, biting you lip, as his brow went up, and his ears went red, fingers flipping the card shut immediately.

“…you serious?” he murmured, as you pushed up onto your toes, lips brushing his cheek.

“About which part? The cuffs, or the hotel?”

“…both,” he answered, eyes darting to be sure no one was watching you two. You smiled, and kissed him gently, before pulling back.

“Absolutely. So stay focused, and when you’re off tour, come by,” you told him, holding the bag up with a smirk. “And then you might get to open this.”

“I’m really tempted to call off work.” Laughing softly, you shook your head, and smiled a little softer.

“Cake. Work. Then temptation,” you promised, catching his hand to squeeze it as you walked around him. “Happy birthday baby.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”


	7. Day Seven: Baking Together (Criminal Minds)

“No, no, Spence, wait, that’s not right, the recipe calls for a Teaspoon, not a Tablespoon,” you called over your shoulder as you dug the eggs out of the fridge.

“I’ve got an eidetic memory, Y/N, I know it’s Tablespoon,” Reid answered, shaking his head as he dumped the tablespoon of baking soda into the mixer, setting things down. “What’s next?”

“If you have an eidetic memory, you should know that,” you countered, chuckling, before you squawked as the flour burst against your head. “Reid!”

“I didn’t do it!” he laughed, ducking as you threw a handful of flour back at him.

By the time the cookies went into the oven, the kitchen was covered in flour, and so were the two of you, as you sat on the floor against the wall. As much as Reid hated germs and things of that nature, he seemed comfortable in this spot with you, as you slouched against him, although he absolutely didn’t look pleased that you were plucking bites of dough from the bowl, and popping them between your lips.

“I’m telling you, these are gonna be a little off - too much soda.”

“And I’m telling you, I’ve got an eidetic memory, I’m not wrong.”

“Spence, I have sampled dough from every batch of cookies I’ve made since I was seven, and I can tell you, right now, too much baking soda. This kind of tastes like crap,” you admitted, even as you took another bite. He stared at you, before chuckling, shaking his head.

“The cookies will taste fine.”

You were not surprised that not only did the cookies take longer to bake, but that they did come out tasting pretty terrible.

Reid was surprised, though, when you laughed hysterically. Just like you were surprised when he overturned the rest of the bag of flour on your head.


	8. Day Eight: Dating Because of A Bet (Blue Bloods )

 

 

“Look…Jamie, I…I know this wasn’t really something you wanted,” you sighed, hands in your pockets, as you and Jamie stood outside of the museum, “so if you want to call this bet a wash, we can do that.” He scoffed, shifting to nudge you with his elbow.

“I lost, fair and square, and the wager was two dates, anything you wanted. So come on, I’m taking you to the Museum, and we’re gonna have lunch after.” He was already halfway up the steps before you could say anything, and you huffed, jogging up the steps to follow. As he reached the top, he popped his elbow out, smiling over as you rolled your eyes but curled your hand around the offered elbow.

“I just meant, yes, you lost the bet, but I won’t hold it over you if you’d rather do something else today, instead of take me out on this pity date.” The two of you had barely stepped inside when he registered what you said, and he pulled you away from the door, frowning, as you avoided his eye.

“Hey…just because I’m taking you out because I lost a bet doesn’t mean this is a pity date,” Jamie insisted, even as you ducked your head, not believing it. “I mean it…I’ve been wanting to ask you out for months, I just…I didn’t know you were interested.” Hopeful, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze as he smiled a bit, and nodded.

“…oh.”

“So come on,” he said, voice soft, as he leaned in to bump his forehead against yours. “Museum. Lunch. Movie?” he offered quietly, as you blushed, but nodded, leaning into his side.

“I like that lineup,” you answered, leaning up to kiss his cheek, blushing profusely as he chuckled, and led you into the museum.


	9. Day Nine: Roses & Flowers  (Leverage)

Blinking, you looked around the room, confused, fighting a soft laugh as you turned your head.

“Uh…guys?” you asked, turning when you heard the door open. Hardison shuffled out, tapping at his phone, but stopped once he was clear of the door, turning his head to see you.

“What’s up, mama?” he asked, and you just stared at him, waiting. “…what?”

“Alec…the room looks like a greenhouse threw up all over it, what’s with all the flowers?” you asked, turning and motioning around the room. You weren’t lying. Every possible surface was covered in either vased roses or wrapped bouquets of flowers. Alec sauntered over, standing beside you to look around like he had somehow missed all the damn flowers, but shrugged, looking at you.

“Some of them are gonna go in the restaurant,” he told you, as Parker and Eliot finally got into the room, curious about your hollering. “Some are for Parker. And the rest are for you,” he replied, corner of his mouth ticking up in a smile as you furrowed your brow, glancing at all of them in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” It was Eliot’s turn to shrug, as he slid up behind you, wrapping his arm around you and across your chest, pulling your back against his chest and kissing your shoulder.

“We don’t celebrate much of anything outside of Christmas,” he started, voice low but warm in your ear as you fought the blush rising on your cheeks, “but we are showing our appreciation to our favorite people this month, which has you and Parker at the top of the list.” The blush won out, coloring your face, as you laced your fingers with his, turning around to press a kiss to his rough cheek, smiling shyly.

“Well, just wait til I show you guys my appreciation for all three of you.” You paused, before pulling back and looking over at Hardison and Parker. “And no, that was not necessarily completely sexual. I just have a good gift for everyone.”

“Doesn’t sound any less sexual,” Eliot pointed out, grunting and snickering as you poked his side.

“Ugh. Why I love you immature children, I might never know,” you huffed, laughing as Eliot grabbed you around the waist to spin you around.

“We love you too, mama, but if you guys are gonna do anything, please let us get out first,” Hardison begged, already dragging Parker to the door as she laughed.


	10. Day Ten: Set Up By Friends (NCIS NOLA)

 

What were you thinking, agreeing to a damn blind date? You hated blind dates! You especially hated blind dates that your friends set up, because they had become notorious for setting you up with terrible people, people that were their tastes, not yours. You’d stopped counting after Blind Date #4 left the date and went out for drinks with the friend who had set you two up.

And yet, here you were, waiting outside of Cat’s Meow with the music buzzing through your body, hands stuffed in your pockets. You knew your friend had told you 7, and Cat’s Meow on Bourbon, you knew the blind date was tonight, but you were still standing there, at 7:20, already trying to figure out how to kindly tell all your friends that if they have the urge to set you up again, they should just fuck off.

“Y/N?” a voice called through the crowd on Bourbon Street, and you looked around, brow furrowed, as the man weaved through several of the people around you, huffing a bit as he came to a stop beside you, hands on his hips as he caught his breath. “I’m sorry I’m late, I got stuck at work.”

Holy shit, this was already better than every other blind date you’d ever been on, his blue eyes sparkling even as he apologized. Clearing your throat, when you realized you were just fucking staring, you blushed, and shook your head.

“No, it’s…it’s okay. Not like I was alone,” you pointed out with a sheepish chuckle, motioning around you.

“That’s true,” he said, though he still sounded apologetic, before reaching out for your hand. “I’m Chris.”

“…Y/N,” you answered, taking his hand. When he realized you really weren’t upset, he lit up a bit more, and god, if that didn’t take your breath away, as he motioned down the road.

“You hungry?” he asked, falling in step beside you, as you nodded.

“Starving.”

“Great. I know a great place,” Chris insisted, chuckling as you laughed softly, taking his elbow as he offered it.

Yes, he was almost a half hour late, and yes, your friends had a terrible, horrible track record for setting you up.

But, uh…nothing better to stop their line-up of failures than to get it right once, and with the way Chris kept smiling at you, the Southern Charm as thick as that ‘bama accent, you were, for the first time in years, hopeful.


	11. Day Eleven: Unrequited Love (Criminal Minds)

The coffee cup thumping down on the desk made Morgan pulled back, slightly surprised, before he looked up at you, and smiled.

“Hey…thank you,” he told you, tossing his pen down and picking up his cup. He made a happy sound in his throat as he swallowed the freshly brewed liquid. You chuckled, patting his arm as you smiled.

“You looked like you needed it. Rough file?” you asked, taking a seat back at your desk as he huffed, glancing over.

“Every case is rough when people die,” he admitted, shaking his head, and rubbing his eyes. But he smiled over at you, something that - everytime, without fail - made your heart skip as you fought a blush. “Coffee helps though.”

“My pleasure,” you promised, shrugging, and looking down at your hands, before picking up your own file. Morgan sighed, and looked back over at you, curious.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Oh…yeah…I’m fine. Tired.”

Lying to a profiler was dangerous, they were the only people you knew would be able to see through it. But after the horrifically embarrassing incident where you had admitted how you felt to Derek, only to be shot down (he was a perfect gentleman, you just hated that your secret was no longer a secret) by him informing you that he loved being your friend but that was it, it was just easier to claim you were tired instead of telling him that those butterflies in your chest and your stomach had yet to get the message that you needed to stop having feelings.

When you realized he was still staring you, closed your files, stuffing them into your bag, and stood.

“I’m gonna go home. Have a good night, Derek,” you sighed, forcing a smile and waving at him before heading to the elevator. Derek didn’t need to love you back, he didn’t need to have any feelings for you, but you were desperate for the day that he stopped looking at you with thinly veiled pity.


	12. Day Twelve: Late for a Date (NCIS NOLA)

You leaned back in your seat, legs crossed beneath the table, fingers picking at the table cloth, as you waited. The waiter stopped near the table, clearing his throat, before smiling as you peered up.

“I’m sorry to bother you…”

“Oh, no bother,” you told him, glancing to the empty seat across from you. “I’m still waiting.” He looked over, and nodded, apologetic.

“Yes, I know. I was wondering if you would like another glass of wine,” the waiter offered. You sighed, looking at your empty glass, debating for a moment, before you nodded, reluctantly.

“Yes. Please…thank you.” With a nod, the waiter poured you another glass, before smiling again, and heading away from the table.

As you took a sip, you lifted your phone with your free hand, tapping the screen, praying for a message, or a call, or something, but…nothing. The only thing you saw as you checked your phone was that you had now been waiting almost an hour, with no word, and no sign of Dwayne.

The wine felt more bitter on your tongue now than before, as you put the glass down, and shook your head, opening your Contacts and scrolling until you saw Dwayne’s name. As your finger hovered over his name, you heard yours, and lifted your head, watching him hurry through the restaurant, coming to a stop by the table. You turned your head away as he leaned down, not missing his hesitation before he kissed the top of your head.

“Ah’m sorry Ah’m late. My phone died, but we were doing an interrogation, Y/N,” he apologized, taking the seat across from you. “…are you mad?” he asked, and you were tempted to tell him yes, because you were a bit mad, you were upset, but you also knew the job. And you sighed, instead, shrugging.

“I am…amazingly patient. But ten more minutes, your dead phone would have been the least of your problems,” you replied, fighting a smirk as he chuckled, and reached out, taking your hand. The contact warmed you, despite the chill to his skin from the rain outside.

“And I do not deserve you.” It made you laugh softly, squeezing his hand.

“Sometimes you don’t. But that’s fine, because I don’t care. I love you.” The apologetic eyes were gone, then, just a bright smile, and a little twinkle, as he chuckled.

“Ah love you too,” he promised. And with that fucking smile, how could you possibly be mad at him?


	13. Day Thirteen: Waking Up Together

The bed was the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. Not that it was the best bed, it was old and creaky. But it wasn’t the mattress that made it comfortable. It was the well-worn pillow, the blankets that smelled like safe and home, the sheet that covered the mattress that was a gentle shade of blue that was soft against your skin.

It was the warmth along your back, the arm draped around your waist to hold you close, even while you slept, the breath that tickled along the back of your neck but not enough to disturb your sleep.

Even as you started to wake up, you clung to sleep, shifting until your face was nestled in against his chest, feeling his hand move until it was curled into your hair.

“Too early,” he mumbled, as you huffed against his skin.

“Nonsense.” Pride grunted, just a little, curious, as you kissed his chest. The confused sound turned into a pleased hum, which repeated when you kissed him again, before sliding up, head reaching the pillow to be eye to eye with him. He blinked a few times, sleep clinging to his features, even as he smiled sweetly at you.

“Still early.” You wriggled just a little closer, dragging your fingertips across his skin, down his stomach and over his sides, smirking a bit when he groaned at the touch. “Y/N.”

“Not too early,” you pointed out, eyes fluttering shut as he ducked in, sliding his lips across yours.

It was early, but it didn’t matter, as you moved, back flush to the sheet, as Pride slipped between your thighs, pressed his hips flush to yours, the whimpered moan from your throat bringing a smirk to his lips as he sealed his lips over your pulse.


	14. Day Fourteen: "I Love You." (Blue Bloods)

Danny closed the small gap, kissing you softly and smiling into it as you hooked both legs about his hips, wriggling to pull him closer. “What’s on ya mind, sweetheart?” he murmured, hands coming up to cup your face, fingers tangling in your hair as you giggled. It warmed him, how happy you sounded, and looked, as you blinked a few times to see him.

“Right now? You, me, in bed, is preferable,” you admitted, pulling at the knot of his tie to undo it, before your fingers caught the buttons of his shirt. “What do you think, Danny?”

“I think it’s definitely doable,” he replied, catching your bottom lip between his.

With a whimper, you pushed his shirt open, hands dropping to unbuckle his belt, and open his slacks. You had barely dipped your fingers inside the fabric, scratching your nails beneath the band of his boxers, when his phone went off, and you both stilled, before you sighed, pulling back. Danny caught your hand with one of his, not letting you pull it away from his slacks, making you laugh softly, and lean in to kiss his collarbone as he pulled out his phone with his free hand.

“Reagan,” he answered, releasing your wrist, and curling his hand around the back of your head as you lifted your head and latched onto his pulse, grinning into his skin as he fought a groan. “…yeah…yeah, okay, I’ll…yeah, I’ll meet ya there…” The beep of his phone was immediately followed by it hitting the table as you lifted your head, moaning as he slammed his lips against yours, fingers tangling in your hair, as you slid your hand around to the small of his back, and opened your lips to his. It wasn’t until his phone beeped, a text with the address, that he pulled back, huffing, as you groaned, dropping your head.

“Gotta go save the day, Reagan.”

“Yeah…I do. If I wait any longer, Baez’ll kick down the door.” You chuckled, tilting your head as you fixed his slacks and his belt.

“Don’t want that,” you told him, buttoning up his shirt, before you tied his tie. Danny smirked a little, tucking your hair behind your ears, as you smiled up at him.

“Okay. I gotta go…you get some sleep, don’t wait up for me, okay?” You huffed, but nodded, fixing his collar.

“I suppose. Just be careful, alright?” you asked, brow up, and Danny sighed, nodding as he kissed you quickly.

“I’m always careful, baby, don’t worry.” His phone buzzed again, and he chuckled, grabbing it off the table and checking the messages. “Okay, I gotta go. You get some rest, I’ll call ya later, okay? Love ya,” he told you, ducking out the door. You chuckled as the door swung shut, but the sound died in your throat when you realized what he’d said, quickly scrambling off the table, yanking the door open.

“Danny!” He looked up from the steps, brow furrowed. “…did…do you know what you just said?” Cocking his head, Danny darted his eyes, thinking back, but when his face smoothed out, surprised, you knew he hadn’t, not at the time. “Danny.” He hesitated, glancing around, before climbing back up the steps as you came around to meet him. “…did you mean it?” you asked quietly, as he finally met your gaze.

You were nervous, no one could possibly blame you for being nervous. Those words? Those seemingly tiny words? Danny never said them to you, and you’d never said them to him. But here you two were, on the landing of the steps of your building, staring at each other like the silence was going to help. Instead, he sighed, reaching up to cup your jaw, and pull you closer, lips finally ticking up in a smile.

“I never say it if I don’t. I’d never say it t’you, if I didn’t,” Danny promised, voice low, as you blushed, but smiled back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, without having to think about it, eyes falling shut as he ducked in to kiss you.

The sound Danny’s phone was the only reason he wound up pulling away, lips red and kiss-swollen, and you laughed, soft, giddy, nudging him towards the steps as he pulled you in, kissed you once more, quick, before bolting down the steps to get to work.


End file.
